I have been so busy these past few weeks, arriving in Shanghai safely, getting used to the work here in this factory, getting to know the streets of Shanghai, and staying aware of what is going around in the world around me. I am constantly filled with the fear of getting caught by a Japanese soldier and getting sold into sexual slavery. The people her treat me well and I am starting to like it here. I still miss the rubber plantation and Ms. Barnard in Vietnam. I am nostalgic.
This morning, a factory worker from a factory in Hong Kong that is related to our factory here came to talk business with the business owner here. The man that came over was called Wang Peng and he went around asking most of the workers about what they were doing and if they liked the conditions they were being given. I was one of the last people he came over to and talked to and when he came he asked the same questions and turned away. However, after a few minutes he came back and called out a few names, including mine. We were led into a quiet room where he asked us if we would be willing to move to Hong Kong and work in the factory he was employed in. He handed a form out to each of us and told us to submit this form by tomorrow morning if we wanted to move.
This job offer stayed in my mind the whole morning and continued on until the afternoon. That morning, I had received a letter from Ms. Barnard and in it, she had given me the names and photographs of my real parents. She told me that there was a possibility that they may still be living in Shanghai and gave me the address of the orphanage that I was in before she came and took me.
After work that day, I went to the orphanage I was at when I was young and talked to the lady there. She told me that she had no idea where my parents were and that she wished me luck in finding my family. I felt depressed as I had expected to attain more information by going to the orphanage.
However, as I was walking back to the factory, I passed by an inn where I saw five Chinese men working on the construction. I tried walking through the area but a man blocked my path, apologized, and walked away. I started walking back to the factory but suddenly halted in my tracks. I dropped my hand into my pocket, fished out the photograph on my father, glanced at it, and stared back at the man who had just apologized to me.
January 2nd, 1938
Shanghai, China
Dear Diary,
I have been so busy these past few weeks, arriving in Shanghai safely, getting used to the work here in this factory, getting to know the streets of Shanghai, and staying aware of what is going around in the world around me. I am constantly filled with the fear of getting caught by a Japanese soldier and getting sold into sexual slavery. The people her treat me well and I am starting to like it here. I still miss the rubber plantation and Ms. Barnard in Vietnam. I am nostalgic.
This morning, a factory worker from a factory in Hong Kong that is related to our factory here came to talk business with the business owner here. The man that came over was called Wang Peng and he went around asking most of the workers about what they were doing and if they liked the conditions they were being given. I was one of the last people he came over to and talked to and when he came he asked the same questions and turned away. However, after a few minutes he came back and called out a few names, including mine. We were led into a quiet room where he asked us if we would be willing to move to Hong Kong and work in the factory he was employed in. He handed a form out to each of us and told us to submit this form by tomorrow morning if we wanted to move.
This job offer stayed in my mind the whole morning and continued on until the afternoon. That morning, I had received a letter from Ms. Barnard and in it, she had given me the names and photographs of my real parents. She told me that there was a possibility that they may still be living in Shanghai and gave me the address of the orphanage that I was in before she came and took me.
After work that day, I went to the orphanage I was at when I was young and talked to the lady there. She told me that she had no idea where my parents were and that she wished me luck in finding my family. I felt depressed as I had expected to attain more information by going to the orphanage.
However, as I was walking back to the factory, I passed by an inn where I saw five Chinese men working on the construction. I tried walking through the area but a man blocked my path, apologized, and walked away. I started walking back to the factory but suddenly halted in my tracks. I dropped my hand into my pocket, fished out the photograph on my father, glanced at it, and stared back at the man who had just apologized to me.
They looked exactly the same.